The Devoured
by Ski-Ming
Summary: Vietnam takes its toll on Steve. Not hurt and comfort in the way you might expect. Rated for language and adult themes.


The Devoured  
_by Ski-Ming_

Disclaimer: _The Outsiders_ and all of its characters are the property of S.E. Hinton and various publishers and media distributors. The first paragraph contains quotations from "The Relations between the Ego and the Unconscious" by Carl Jung.

Author's notes: This is my first time writing from a male perspective, so feedback would be appreciated.  
Rated for (gratuitous) language and drug use.

* * *

The road to death's not paved with pavement  
But littered with the souls of strung-out men  
Who all claimed Christ is heroin

– The Ike Reilly Assassination, "Heroin"

* * *

"'It is precisely the strongest and best among men, the heroes, who give way to their regressive longing and purposely expose themselves to the danger of being devoured by the monster of the maternal abyss.' What do you think a maternal abyss is? And then it says here, 'if a man is a hero, he is a hero because, in the final reckoning, he did not let the monster devour him, but subdued it, not once but many times.' I think this guy Jung's really on to something. I think he's–"

"Honeycutt, will you put that book down and _shut the fuck up_?"

"Sorry."

Honeycutt's a candyass. Whoever let him in the Rangers should get fired, pronto.

"Hey … Randle?"

"What."

"Once we get out of here, I'm gonna be a headshrinker. I'm saving up my money to go to school."

"Who gives a hang?"

I signed up to come here. I'm good at fighting and I like it. The pay doesn't stink, either. And if I die I'm dead and that's all there is to it.

"Randle? What do you want to be, once we go home?"

Christ, it's hot.

"Gimme the spoon."

"Oh! Sure. Hey, some of the boys were talking and they say that if you chase the dragon you don't get hooked."

"You even know what 'chasing the dragon' means?"

"Well sure. It means you smoke it instead of shootin' up."

"This way works just fine, Honeycutt."

x x x

In this whole entire shithole of a country, there's nothing better than when you fall back on your bunk and every joint in your body pops at once.

x x x

"Hey, Randle?"

"Mm."

"Remember … remember that time we blindfolded those gooks? And put them in the chopper and took 'em up five feet in the air?"

"Mm."

"But we told them we were a thousand feet up … and then we threw that little guy out?"

"Mm."

"Remember how he screamed?"

"Yeah, I remember."

"And then the other guy got real scared, and sang like a canary when we asked him where the Viet Cong were hiding?"

"Mm."

"I hope we never have to do that again."

"I've seen string beans with bigger balls 'n yours."

x x x

"Hey, Randle?"

"Mm."

"I'm writing my old lady right now … you want me to write Evie for you?"

"Yeah." Honeycutt's a good kid. He's a candyass, but a good kid.

"You gotta sign it this time. Or she'll get pissed."

"Good deal." I flash a peace sign at him and my face cracks into a lazy grin.

"You're my best friend here, Randle."

x x x

Back home, I got hauled in for skin fighting with rich bitches. Here, I'm John Wayne with an M60. It's easy enough to like killing people. You don't even have to hate them.

Anyone who doesn't get wise to that will get himself murdered, sooner or later.

x x x

"Hey, Randle?"

"Fuck off, Honeycutt."

x x x

I'm flying. I'm not awake and I'm not asleep. Don't need to eat or sleep or fuck or nothing. I'm just … flying.

I hope that panty waist Honeycutt doesn't open his trap and ruin it for me.

x x x

"Hey, Honeycutt."

"What?"

"I ever tell you about Sodapop?"

"Yeah. You told me a bunch of times."

"He's my best buddy. But he's dead now. Jumped on a hand grenade to save all the fuckin' pansies in his foxhole. Blown to pieces."

"I know, Randle."

"I wish he wasn't dead. Goddamnit …" My eyeballs spaz from time to time – all my muscles do when I'm flying. That's how come they leak sometimes. Or maybe I just got sweat on my face.

"Aw, cheer up … it's been months."

"The dumb bastard. I wish … I wish I could tuck him into a big poppy. And he'd sleep inside there forever, golden and perfect." I'm climbing in now, as I speak: "The belly of a giant golden poppy. Wouldn't that be something."

"It sure would be."

"Shut the fuck up, candyass."


End file.
